


if you see me in merch, it's your cue to talk to me

by fangurks



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, College, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Social Media, Twitter, most of it is written story, there are only a few twitter parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangurks/pseuds/fangurks
Summary: Michael Mell was having a not so great day.That is until he meets the perfect boy in the subway.And loses him again.(Thank God Twitter exists.)Or:@jdsmountaindewoh damn, so sorry to hear that :/ maybe you’ll get ur chance still! for example, i saw someone with lots of merch today too haha so maybe its not that unlikely to meet this rare species xD@11037@jdsmountaindew that is wack, did u talk to them and restore the universe’s balance?
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 22
Kudos: 54





	if you see me in merch, it's your cue to talk to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stellathefangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellathefangirl/gifts).



Michael Mell was pissed.

No, seriously. You could ask anyone about how they thought Michael was feeling, and they would tell you in exactly these words: “That Mell guy? Oh yeah, he is pissed beyond reason.” At least, if ‘anyone’ actually meant Michael’s 70-something neighbor with the cat, or the single mother with her little brat who had the superpower to shout throughout the whole apartment complex in the middle of the night (Michael knows. They have thin walls.), since these two people are basically the only people Michael managed to interact within what felt like ages.

Well, these two – and his mums. After moving to New Jersey about a month ago, he barely had the time and energy (and the money, if he was being honest; cars definitely cost a lot more if you’re being too lazy to walk or ride a bike because there’s no parental supervision stopping you) to see them. That is, until three days ago when he had the brilliant idea to spontaneously visit them for a day or two. Which then turned into three. Which then turned into a sleep-deprived boy who only returned some 6 hours ago, fully aware that he had his first classes in… approximately forty minutes. Oh, joy. And as if that wasn’t enough reason to be in a bad mood already, Michael’s bottle of coke had to choose today to spill itself all over his favorite hoodie. So not only would Michael be smelling all day like some Coke-junky (which he _wasn’t_ – he only drinks Coke if it’s a discontinued version), but now his most comfortable piece of clothing would be sitting in the washing machine while Michael had to face the dangers of society in something plain boring. 

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine”, Michael whispered, while stripping himself of his hoodie and replacing it with the black sweater. Bo-Ring. This was something you could wear to a trashy High school party where the only fun things consisted of alcohol or drinking. At least that’s what Michael assumed.

(He never had any friends in High school in the first place, so he doesn’t really have the… experience, to judge what one would wear to a party.)

Michael furiously shook his head. He was pissed, not sad, and he wanted to keep it that way, thank you very much. Pissed that he was tired, pissed about the Coke incident, pissed about his hoodie and—

“Oh, friggin—come on!”

Pissed that his car apparently gave up on him as well.

No matter how long he tried to get his cruiser moving, it was no use. So it was with a heavy heart that Michael looked up the directions to the closest subway station, and jogged right over. Just in time, too. The moment his behind met a seat, he was already reaching to put on his headphones – only to find that his neck was shockingly empty. In that exact moment, it took all last ounces of decency that Michael owned to not throw a tantrum right then and there.

No, Michael was – after all – a decent college student who had his shit together, not a lonely and anxious boy who needed something to distract him from the noise and tightness of a crowded place. Nope. Not this Mell. It was pure boredom actually, that made Michael look around the wagon, in search of anything that could keep his mind occupied. He would’ve tried inspecting all the different ads and plans on the walls, but he knew them all by heart anyway, after having taken the subway for years.

Thank god cars exist.

Suddenly Michael’s eyes landed on a boy across from him, a few seats to the left. At first sight, he seemed rather ordinary looking. Jeans, shirt, blue cardigan, brown hair. And while Michael did find the cardigan thing quite strange, that wasn’t what caught his attention:

The boy was wearing merch.

And it wasn’t just some Star Wars Shirt, or something else you could find at any store. No, this boy went _all out_. While _yes_ , his Jeans and Cardigan seemed as plain as they come (and they did a good job of overshadowing the geekiness hidden on this boy – but Michael’s eyes were trained), there were all these details that made Michael’s heart thump just a little faster in his chest: The guy's shirt was from an old Indie Horror Movie that Michael had watched at least a hundred times by now, his belt actually had a silver Super Smash buckle, and his shoes had little Pacmans drawn on them. Not to mention there were different patches and pins on the stranger’s backpack. Michael was pretty sure he could recognize a princess Peach one.

Adorable.

He knew he was staring. But he couldn’t help it! It wasn’t every day that you saw someone who was able to wear their interests as open and proud as Michael did. And while this guy maybe wasn’t on his level still, he was at least a level seven in Michael’s humble opinion. Maybe even a-

“Holyshee-“, he quickly covered his wheeze up with a few soft coughs. The heavenly stranger had just taken a phone out of his pocket, and while Michael may be half-blind, he would recognize that logo from any distance: The phone case was Apocalypse Of The Damned themed. Only a few hundred samples of these existed! Michael would literally _kill_ to just look at one, and now all he had to do for that to happen, was to walk up to that guy and show his AOTD patch like some kind of secret passcode, and-… and then-…

Fuck.

With gnawing horror, Michael stared down his own body to see… absolutely nothing. Well, of course, he saw his sweater and the green _CREEPS_ greeting him, but… nothing else (a part of Michael wished there really was nothing – at least that would catch the stranger’s attention, and from there on Michael could smoothly explain his nakedness with a funny joke, making the guy laugh, and boom. Best friends. (Another part of Michael wasn’t sure whether to cry or laugh)).

At this point, it'd be important to mention: It wasn’t that Michael was overly anti-social. Sure, some things have always been quite strenuous or difficult, as long as he could remember. But talking to people that seemed pretty fly was never one of them. In that regard, Michael was actually pretty over-the-top. If he met someone with the same rare interests as him, he would usually befriend them quickly or annoy them for hours on end until people couldn’t help but find him endearing.

And yet – so far, Michael has never met a person that seemed to even slightly like the same things as he did in real-life. So his whole experience is pretty much based on internet connections. And if Michael was feeling particularly honest, he’d admit that most of these friends were more of the nature of acquaintances, actually. This all leads up to say: Yes. Michael was maybe, possibly, a tiny weeny bit nervous.

That’s no big deal, though. Just like Michael had already forgotten about how he was still supposed to be pissed because life sucked, he could just as well and quickly overcome his nervousness. He just- needed a minute. Posting about his situation on Tumblr seemed like a good enough distraction as well, even if it would only spare him a short moment.

Taking a deep breath, Michael steeled himself for rejection and abruptly got up from his seat, ready to walk towards his target. It was at this exact moment that Michael realized: The stranger was gone.

_This wasn’t ridiculous._

Or at least that’s what Michael tried to convince himself of, as he was shooting a last, longing glance at his car – which was perfectly fine now once more, after he repaired it yesterday (which is to say, there was no fuel left anymore after the trip to his parents and he had to refill) – and shouldering his backpack a little higher.

_Not at all._

Around five minutes later, the subway station came into sight. And here’s the thing: Michael had _a plan_. Mind you, not an overly complicated one, but a plan nonetheless. It consisted of him positioning himself near the wagon entrance, standing, and ready to jump to action as soon as he'd see the other student. He had to be a student, after all, right? He had seemed around Michael’s age, and he was carrying a backpack with him which looked suspiciously like a schoolbag. Michael was embarrassed to admit that he didn’t catch a lot of other details about the boy himself, since he had been busy ogling his merch instead. Which he came to regret now.

Michael would also be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself for having hand-washed his hoodie yesterday, just so he could wear it for today’s mission. It was a huge confidence boost. And it would maybe make him look less like a fucking creep. At least Michael hoped so.

So with that in mind, he waited for the subway to arrive before he realized a fatal mistake: How was he supposed to know which wagon the stranger would potentially choose? “This is fucking great”, Michael murmured sarcastically, “alright, Mell. Focus. You will, uh. You will be the last one to enter, and you’ll enter through the very first wagon. Then you’ll go from left to right, checking the whole thing, and whenever it stops, you check the station through the windows, making sure he’s not entering where you’ve already checked, or leaving. Also, stop talking to yourself, it’s getting creepy.”

As it turns out, either Michael’s masterplan wasn’t as foolproof as he had hoped, or- or the guy wasn’t actually regularly taking the subway. In which case, he really had seen him for the last time.

It bothered him more than he wanted to admit. If he had even an ounce of poetic talent, he might describe this obsessiveness of his as looking for a soulmate after having lived his life in the embrace of seldom up until this point. But that obviously wasn’t true. Michael Mell was anything but lonely, after all. Who needed friends, if you have Zombies and the Apocalypse? (His mum also heard him reciting Shakespeare once while high. She had never let him live it down.)

So really – there was no reason for him to be in such a bad mood after his plan failed. He knew that. And still: That knowledge did not keep him from cranking his music just a little bit louder, or from pulling his hoodie just a little bit more into his face, or from not even bothering to look up after having accidentally been bumped into in the school’s hallways by some random dude.

It did keep him from noticing the random dude’s curious staring though.

On another note: Maybe things weren’t looking all that bad for Michael: He was still in a kinda bad mood during the first break, but when lunchtime arrived, he was already pretty excited again. Today would be the first club meeting, and Michael hadn’t expected a lot of it, so when he suddenly made a new friend, it was pretty out of sight.

Well, at least she insisted on being a friend. And Michael wasn’t one to decline such an offer. Especially since Christine seemed to be a really energetic and friendly person, and Michael honestly felt like he wouldn’t mind hanging out with her. She also seemed to be _really_ into theater, but this _was_ the theater club after all. Even though Michael was – in fact – responsible for lightning and such, Christine’s enthusiasm was totally infectious. And Michael bet his soda collection that she was absolutely aware: She mentioned how she was still trying to talk a friend into joining the club. Michael pitied the guy because there was no way he could decline Christine if she was always like this.

It was only after school that Michael had time to open his laptop and check all his new messages. He had some test emails from new professors, and some spam, and – surprisingly – a bunch of messages from Christine already. She was really cute, actually, and a ball of sunshine. Literally. She had even sent him photos of her first theater performance where she had been playing the sun.

She had also ranted about how her last play was disastrous, which is why that friend of hers was so hesitant about joining this time. Apparently, someone had thought it would be a funny joke to mix some sort of drug into the requisite drink, so her friend even ended up in the hospital. Though Christine was absolutely resolute on the fact that this year would be better – after all, they were playing a classical.

(He opted against reminding her that Othello was, so far, only a suggestion, and not the decided-on play.)

It took him a few seconds to stop staring at his phone screen. Of course, he had seen that his and jdsmountaindew’s Twitter Thread had gained likes and retweets in the last couple of days, which Michael personally considered funny since they were basically both just ranting about everyday stuff, but Michael’s not going to complain. And aside from answering some mundane questions and leaving it at that, Michael really had been only answering AllmightIsHeere the whole time. It was quite ironic, considering they didn’t actually know each other, nor had they ever chatted privately. But whoever AllMightIsHeere was, they didn’t seem to be too inclined about moving their conversation into direct messages, and Michael wouldn’t be the one to change that. Even if some of the other users’ comments were quite… absurd.

“Hey, Micah! How is my favorite lightning guy doing? And what are you doing? And why are you blushing?”

Feeling called out, Michael quickly put his phone away and started automatically answering her questions, not bothering with the last one. Towards the end of his answer – I just absolutely failed a Math test which is why I’m distracting myself from the misery that is my existence, what about you? – Michael turned his full attention to Christine, who had appeared behind him, and. Huh. Another student?

“You’ve already written a test, so early into the Semester? That’s insane! If you want to, we can study together next time, that’ll be loads more fun! Apropos fun: I’m super excited for today’s practice! I will do absolutely everything in my power to make sure we’ll get a Play that is reasonable! Because I’m telling you, Cassie’s suggestion might be funny, but from a cultural point of view, it is absolutely disastrous! How dare we insult-“

Christine went on with her little rant, apparently without deeming it necessary to introduce her companion. It presented a quite funny scenery indeed, what with small, fierce Christine wildly gesticulating, and this relatively tall guy standing behind her, fidgeting and- huh. Staring at Michael?

No, not Michael. His hoodie.

That is, until he noticed Michael noticing. The moment he must’ve felt caught, his expression turned rather pale and quite pained. Michael decided to free him from his misery, by redirecting his attention to Christine and trying his best to help this guy’s awkward position. “Hey, Christine. Who did you bring with you?” Christine tsked at first, interrupting her own rant, and turning around with a _swoosh_ of her hair and skirt. “I’ve shown you pictures, Michael! Remember? This is Jeremy, the one I’ve been telling you about!”

The guy tried for a little smile, and then it struck Michael: Right, he’s seen that face before!

Christine had shown pictures from their last year of High school. That must be it, right? “Hi”, the boy – Jeremy – said, accompanied by a little wave of his hand. He had already looked pretty cute on Christine’s phone screen, but he looked totally tubular in reallife. And Michael only used slang on things he truly meant.

Not only did the summer break seem to have done him lots of good – the last of his puberty pimples leaving, and his jaw seemingly being more defined than on the pics – his basic features were really pretty, as well. His eyes, his smile, his questioning look—wait, that’s not right-

“Uh, hi back to you, my dude!”

The guy snickered and curiously shot a glance at the keys Michael was wearing on a band around his neck – one of which was a rather odd keychain. “Uh”, the guy tried and failed to create eye contact, “is that an Apocalypse of the Damned keychain?” It took a second for Michael to register the words. He… he had never met anyone before in person, who even _knew_ about the game. “Oh my god, yes! It absolutely is! I literally have three different ones, which was, like, so hard to get! One of them is a limited edition, so I usually only wear it to important occasions, and-“, Michael cut himself off, nervously scratching his neck. Well, that was awkward. Though Jeremy didn’t seem to be too scared off. A bit startled maybe, but then again, he seems like the kind of guy who’s easily startled anyway.

“I-it’s cool. I actually have a pho-“ Before Jeremy was able to finish his sentence, Christine butted in once more with a quick squeal: “Oh my gosh, I think I just saw Cassie outside! Michael, you can go ahead with showing Jeremy the theater rooms, I absolutely need to give Cassie this Pro-Othello list I’ve made before club activities start today!” And with that, she was darting off.

Michael noticed Jeremy fondly smiling after her, and took advantage of the moment by slinging his arm around the other’s shoulders before Jeremy even had the chance to stiffen, leading him further into the room.

“Now, Jeremy, my friend. Let me show you the mysterious ways and pleasures of being The Guy Behind The Stage. But don’t blame me if you end up switching from actor to lightning guy, or Christine might choke me in my sleep.”

“Dude, you are cooler than a Vintage cassette.”

Jeremy fondly looked up from the game controller to glance at Michael. But Michael wasn’t finished: “And maybe in college, people will realize it too.” After that, it took Jeremy approximately four seconds (he was getting _slow_ ) to get it, which was when he threw one of the pillows at Michael. “Fuck you too, dude.” Michael giggled at that, and Jeremy couldn’t help but join, which caused their game progress to go back to zero. Michael couldn’t bring himself to care. Although maybe the weed played a part in it, too. He was actually starting to question his state of highness along with the Queen’s existence and the mysteries of the Matrix before he got snapped out of his thoughts:

“Michaeeeeel.”

“Yes, Jerbear?”, he sing-sang back to his best friend.

“I want a slushie. Can we go get slushies?”, wailed said best friend, after finally having paused the game that had restarted automatically. “But we just had slushies, like, half an hour ago. Remember? I brought them with me when I showed up,” came the voice of reason, which Michael considered to be practically his voice anyway. “But”, argued Jeremy, sitting straight up in front of his friend, looking as serious as they come, “you have a car.” Michael made a ‘continue’ movement with his hand, “I don’t.” Michael went over his friend’s very wise words, and nodded solemnly. “You are absolutely right. Let’s get slushies.”

In the end, the situation turned into both boys arriving at Michael’s apartment two hours later, since Michael’s brain had turned to autopilot as soon as they entered Seven Eleven, and Jeremy had fallen asleep the moment they got back into the car. Which is how they ended up together in Michael’s bed in the evening, both in pajamas and half asleep and still a little itsy bitsy high. It was reasonable for Jeremy and Michael to share a bed, Michael figured, since his was king-sized, and the couch was uncomfortable as hell, and girls did this all the time at sleepovers, so why the heck shouldn’t boys be allowed to?!

“Fuck toxic masculinity!”, Michael suddenly shouted. Jeremy didn’t even flinch the slightest, which Michael was damn proud of. Instead, the younger boy just cuddled more into the blanket, and in doing so, half pushed himself on Michael, who was _wheezing_. Both because Jeremy looked hilarious in trying to squeeze himself even more into his blanket cocoon, and also because he had literally knocked the breath out of him. Michael’s wheezing soon turned into straight-up laughter (okay, so maybe they shouldn’t have smoked the last bit of weed that Michael had found in his car, but they were young and allowed to be stupid and fictional, okay?!).

“Stooop laughing at me, Micah.”

Michael laughed even more at that. Jeremy looked hilariously adorable, half snuggled into the blanket, half smashed on Michael’s chest, half falling asleep. Seriously, he had a habit of getting super sleepy super fast whenever they got stoned. Michael loved teasing him for it. “Dude”, teased Michael, true to nature, “why should I stop?” He actually wasn’t sure if Jeremy heard him still, or if he had fallen asleep, and Michael’s laughter slowly faded, getting replaced by a content smile.

“Cause you’re my favowite pewson. You can’t make fun of meh.”

Fuck.

Within one moment, Michael felt as if all his breath was knocked out; as if his rib cage tightened, and his heart started beating faster. Carefully, Michael moved a bit, so that he could see Jeremy’s face. His eyelashes were resting on his cheeks, which always got a bit puffy when Jeremy was sleeping. His tongue stuck out a bit, and there was the slightest hint of a smile.

"You're mine, too."

It’s not like he wasn’t already painfully aware of his feelings for his best friend – for weeks he’s been coming to that conclusion now, really – and had to come to terms with a probable rejection, were he ever to confess. Well, actually – he wasn’t sure what Jeremy would say, because Michael did not plan to reveal his feelings anytime soon. Preferably, never.

After all, Jeremy and Christine were his first-ever friends. And his only _real_ friends, that Michael would give up anything for. He couldn’t risk losing that. He just… couldn’t.

So he’d have to continue dealing with these feelings. With the increased thumping of his heartbeat, whenever he just thought about the brunette. The stuttering in his breath when both of them were having an intimate moment and Jeremy would decide that moment would be perfect to initiate physical touch. Or the urge to surge forward when those plump lips were too close for Michael’s safety – when they were just _there_ , in excellent kissing range, on the face of the boy who was currently snoring on his chest— Michael let out a soft groan, and took off his glasses, before putting them next to the bed. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his eyeballs and lay a hand around Jeremy’s waist, ready to fall asleep.

Michael Mell was fucked.

Since he was a small kid, Michael used to scrunch up his nose whenever he was confused. This is exactly what he did now, looking once more at the notification of his phone. How did the Twitter guy know his name? Had Michael maybe actually written it in his bio or something? Or was he, like, a hacker?

Michael was in the middle of checking his account info once more, and a third time, and contemplating just direct messaging the guy to find out what his deal was when his doorbell suddenly rang. Multiple times. Without stopping.

No. Now it _did_ stop.

Michael got up from his carpet, and he would probably get a strain in his face from scrunching up his nose so much today. Startled, Michael opened the door, ready to buzz the door below open, only for an out-of-breath Jeremy to stumble into his apartment, almost knocking both of them over. “Hey! Uh, that senile neighbor of yours – the one with the three cats – was going for a walk, so when he opened the door, I didn’t wait for you to buzz the door open, I just- uh, yeah. Hi.”

Finishing his sentence, Jeremy took a second to catch his breath, while Michael slowly closed the front door, looking positively shell-shocked. “Jeremy, dude, I love you, but it’s 1 am and we have classes tomorrow.” At his confession of love (which Michael did often, it was a friend…ish thing, that he sometimes did. Jeremy too though), Jeremy started to blush profusely, which in turn made Michael blush. Did he say it weirdly?

Before he could question every word he’s ever exchanged with Jeremy, said boy finally stood up straight and rummaged through his shoulder bag. It was the one he always took with him for sleepovers, so was he planning on staying?

“Do you remember Rich? Goranksi?”

Michael nodded slowly, making it a point to make himself look questioning. “We have, like, three classes each with him, and we literally saw him on Friday… and he’s in the theater club too… Jeremy, are you okay?”

Ignoring his question or the fact that of course, they both knew Rich, who they were kinda friends with, Jeremy rattled on: “I was in High school with him, and he kinda bullied me back then—but we’re on good terms now, don’t look so pissed! – anyway, on the first day of school, he and a friend of his ate lunch together and I joined, but his friend was kinda super rude and made a stupid comment which made me feel insecure about trying to be more open-“, Michael scowled even more at that, “which is not the point! The point is! It made me change my phone case, which is stupid, because I know you would’ve loved it, but I now want to ask you: Have you seen this before?”

With that, Jeremy finally fumbled out something out of his back – presumably the phone case – and also directly turned his attention to Michael, which made him kinda feel like a deer caught in the headlights. It was a really intense stair, okay?

“Uh, I don’t know, Jer- huh?”

Michael grabbed the phone case and checked once more whether he was wearing his glasses, before slowly blinking. “Dude! You had an Apocalypse of the Damned phone case this whole time?! That’s rad, bro, and whoever made that comment, is-“

Something clicked and the world seemed to slow down.

Jeremy was inspecting his face intensely, while his hands were grabbing the straps of his shoulder back. It was a nervous habit. Why would Jeremy have to be nervous about showing Michael a cool phone case? There was only one possible answer, especially if you took the whole situation of why Jeremy came so urgently and unannounced.

Michael’s face set on fire. “You’ve read the tweets, didn’t you?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I didn’t just read them. I answered, too.”

There was suddenly a phone screen in front of Michael’s face, the words ‘Wait, Michael?’, agonizingly staring back at the addressee.

“And Michael?” Jeremy waited until Michael looked him in the eyes, and both boys were blushing furiously. “I absolutely swing that way.”

Michael still felt like his face was flaring up, but he couldn’t keep the grin from his face. He decided to grab Jeremy by the waist, and hugging the heck out of him, using his position to his advantage and hiding his face in Jeremy’s neck. They stood like that for a few seconds, maybe minutes, before Jeremy quietly, with a shaky voice, disrupted the silence: “I love you, Michael.” Michael felt so happy, he could cry. “I love you too, Jeremy.” It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As natural as it felt when their lips finally met.

“Oh my gowd.”

“Mhmp?”

“Michael.”

Michael lifted his face from Jeremy’s pillow, his hair tousled. Jeremy did his best not to get distracted by his boyfriend’s adorableness. He instead focused on the issue at hand: “I haven’t checked my Twitter Account in weeks.” Michael’s head hit the pillow again as an answer, eyes closing once more. “’m ‘n’ther.”

“No, Micah, I don’t think you understand. I haven’t checked Twitter, which means I haven’t checked our Thread.” One of Michael’s eyes warily blinked open again. “Mhm?” Jeremy couldn’t help but puff out a little giggle. “Our Thread went viral.” There was a short moment of realization, before Michael jumped out of bed, and to the desk where Jeremy was sitting with his laptop. “Holy shit, dude, no way.”

“Yes, way.” Jeremy turned the laptop screen so that Michael could see better, who in turn stole the mouse and began scrolling through the different Tweets, with unbelievable amounts of hearts. With every rising number, his eyes seemed to double in size, and Jeremy proudly leaned back in his seat. That is until Michael’s finger stopped moving, and his eyes started glinting mischievously. Jeremy sensed danger, which is why he leaned forward, checking the screen.

“You were totally gushing over how cute I was in front of thousands of people.”

“I”, Jeremy spluttered, closing the laptop, and blushing, “did no such thing!” “Jearbear, you know it’s true! You’ve declared your love for me for everyone to see!” Michael gasped dramatically, “How long did we know each other back then? Three weeks? Four? Oh my!” Michael cackled like the evil gremlin that he was.

“Well, so did you! And besides: You were the one who started this whole ridiculous business anyway! I mean, who tweets about how they can’t bring themselves to talk to some random guy—“

“Nope, still doesn’t top you publicly calling me cute, _seriously_ -“

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“Only if I get a kiss.”

Jeremy obliged.

**Author's Note:**

> Aight, guys. I've had lots of help with finding usernames and account names and profile pictures, and I also had struggles with learning how to post pictures into the work, or when the summer semester started in 2018.  
> It was the lovely @stellathefangirl who helped me out (in fanfics, butt also in life <3), so appreciate herrrr. ^^
> 
> I also hope the pictures actually show up xDD


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